


Authority Song

by Missy



Category: Psych
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, Pop Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawns's spent every waking moment of his life trying not to be like his father...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Authority Song

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gen Battle, Prompt: "Father Knows Best".

Shawn Spencer has spent the majority of his life avoiding looking, acting, and thinking like his father. Sometimes this involves painting his reddish hair dark brown with shoe polish, sometimes this involves starting a one-man riot at a Ticketmaster booth after losing out on some sweet front-row seats to an Oingo-Boingo concert, but ultimately it serves his favorite purpose: proving that he is, in no way, shape or form, Henry Spencer.

Youthful rebellion is a joy until, of course, it’s turned around on you by your own children.

He calls Henry in as a last resort, after Juliet has her first night on the duty roster and Gus has a convenient weekend out of town. 

Henry meets him at the door with a case of beer, taking in Shawn’s sputtering declaration "Screaming...screaming...mashed carrots in my hair and oh GOD, the poop!" with a shrug. 

Fifteen minutes later, his daughter is fed, changed and sleeping, and Shawn stands eyeing his dad with suspicion. 

“What?” Henry grumbles, ransacking the kitchen cabinets behind him for something edible. 

“You are evil!”

“I’m not evil, Shawn!”

“You’ve got some strange, magical power over babies!” Shawn’s jaw drops. “Oh my God, you sold your soul to Stevie Nicks!”

“Shawn!”

“Or you made a deal with the Goblin King to keep what’s left of your hair. And while I'd love to learn what kind of mousse he uses, HE CAN'T HAVE MY BABY." To the empty room he calls out, “Hear that, Jareth? Take your owl and your creepy dong and go back to the labyrinth!” 

“There were no owls! And no gorgeous singer-songwriters with great gams and a butt that doesn’t quit.” 

“…And now this conversation is profoundly disturbing…”

“Just listen,” Henry demands. “Once upon a time, I had a baby that wouldn’t shut his little mouth,” declared Henry, pointing his bottle in Shawn’s direction. “I picked up a few tricks along the way, and that little girl of yours fell for them.”

Shawn stares at his father. “Are…are you trying to tell me I’m just like you were?”

Henry’s smile is fond, sincere. “No, dumbass.” He reaches over and ruffles his son’s hair. “And you never will be.”

“Thank you,” Shawn whispers under his breath. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still have that recipe for Frito casserole lying around?”

“Yep,” he points to his forehead, “up in the old noodle, why?”

“I wanna surprise Jules when she comes home…” Shawn shuffles his feet. “Maybe you could, uh…”

“I’d be happy to teach you,” Henry grins.

And, in spite of himself, Shawn learns.

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains characters from **Psych**. The author has no legal claim upon these characters, and this fiction is a work of fannish tribute, from which no money was made.


End file.
